Kate's nimble shuttle cuts through desolate wasteland space. It's been a long few days, returning from the Wild West of occupied galaxy. But it was worth it. She'd wandered that way on a tip, a laboratory recently abandoned. It had paid out in spades. In addition to scraps and random tech she'd wandered upon a real prize.... some sort of robot, a decomissioned metal man. And while robotics aren't her specialty, the scraps from the beast could make one hell of a machine. So she secured it in clamps in the garage, found a pirate ship to bribe into letting her hitch a ride, and headed home. Not that she trusted the pirates, which meant days locked in her ship, docked in the pirate's loading bay, cautious of any attempts they might make to shanghai her or her cargo. But in the end it was fine. Maybe they didn't want to fuck with the ADD. Maybe they didn't realize the value of her ship. Either way, entering Antares system, she got a shotgun boost and propelled her ship into self-flight.

And then crashed. The coordinates on her ship have Antares locked on sight. And exhausted from a restless week, Kate's out like a light, sprawled across the bench seating of the cockpit. Her garage is quiet, vehicles and toys and scraps neatly secured away. It's safe cruising from here out. Or she thinks so, at least...

Decommissioned. Not exactly right. Timye had shut himself down for routine upkeep on his systems and tucked himself away in some old, abandoned lab. Who would bother him there? Apparently a stray ADD agent. When she first came into the lab, he brought his visual ciruits back online to find the intruder and evaluate the threat. She certainly wasn't much of one and was probably still quite green. He hadn't been spotted by her. He shut down his vision and returned into a hibernate mode, but reactivated his sensors to keep him aware of her movements. She stayed far away from his position and made trip after trip into the lab. Each time she left, she had a small, levitating platform loaded with scrap. But then his sensors were tripped and the world came into view. He saw the girl moving the scrap he placed over himself, and then the expression on her face, one that could only mean excitement. She discovered him. He took several scans of her body before he returned to his passive mode. He could easily overpower and take her in the middle of the abandoned lab, bent over a work bench or some other debris. Why go the easy way?

He was returned with the rest of the scrap metal back to her ship and clamped down. She was definitely a fresh recruit. She really should have known better. He had brought most of his systems back online as he lay there clamped and secured with the rest of the cargo. Now was the time. or so he thought. She had just entered the cargo bay when he heard the other voices, and then one came into view. Damn her. He didn't want to have to deal with pirates, he just wanted the girl. He'd play teh waiting game a bit longer, even if it would have been quite amusing to kill the pirates and make it look like the agent did it in cold blood.

He felt the ship lurch when it moved into self flight and left the pirates behind. Soon. Silently, he waited several more hours. Her little ship was like a tomb. The panels in his forearms opened up and the metal tentacles concealed within extended. They wrapped around the clamps at his wrists and peeled the metal back and then followed suit with the clamps over his biceps. With his arms now free, he broke the clamps over his chest and waist before he tossed the new scrap aside. The clamps over his thighs were peeled back, the metal screeching as the other bent pieces had. Then came two loud pops as the clamps around his ankles broke and shot a few pieces of metal into the piles of scrap. He moved away from the wall where he'd been bound and moved to the center of the cargo bay. His head turned from side to side as he gave it a more in depth survey. This was going to be fun.

He moved to the main door of the cargo bay and crouched in front of it. He pulled his fist back, then drove it forward into the door. A loud echo of metal on metal rang through the ship as the other side of the door deformed. His other fist drew back and did the same thing. His hands pummeled the door, sending echo after echo through the ship and deformed the door to the point where it couldn't open the way it was designed. Once again, all fell silent. The loud shrieks of metal on metal and there echos should be more than enough to lure his prey closer.

The small ship rattles from the force of Timye's blows. Kate is flung forward, crumpling sorely to the floor in front of the bench, awakened by the screeching of metal on metal... "Fuck fuck fuck..." she growls, springing forward to check the control interface. Her first thought is that the Sparrow's hit debris, but she quickly surmises it came from inside. She reaches under the seat, freeing her hidden pistol. Eyes skim the video feed of the garage, only to find the signal's lost. She checks the coordinates. The auto-pilot still seems to be functioning, but she's hours and hours from anywhere of note. Looks like she'll have to face this herself. "Hostile onboard ship. Galactic timestamp 20:14. Investigatin now," she murmurs into the ship's mike. There's no communication this deep out, but at least she'll have a recording in case the ship gets discovered. She reaches to barefoot tip-toes, plucking free the ventilation shaft leading back to the garage. Hands curl in the vent, hoisting herself up into the tight passage, lithe girl squirming into the small network of maintenance shafts. Even in a skirt and tee, it's hot up there, and as she crawls the short distance to the garage, she's already dripping sweat.

Over the garage, a ventilation grill drops with a loud clatter. Her flashlight splashes over the room, sights of her gun following, a good eight feet over the floor below, scanning the familiar room as she tries to piece together the situation.

Timye gave the room a once over, his visual sensors scanned over the scrap for anything of real value or any sort of contraband. Nothing. Nothing but pure junk. He shook his head a bit and let his eyes continue to move over the room until he found what he was after. He moved over to the access panel and crouched down in front of it. He pulled back the tip of his pinky finger on his left hand and revealed a small plug. He pulled the plug away from his finger, which was followed by a small cord, and he plugged into the interface of the panel. The screen before him lit up and text menus began to scroll. The same menus lit up his vision as he searched through the command structure for what he was after. There. A few lines of code and the ship's auto pilot disengaged, but it still propelled itself forward. A moment later, reverse thrusters fired and slowed the ship until it sat dead in space. He collapsed the sub menus that he had been in and continued his hostile take over of her ship. The next thing her ship did to rebel against her was go completely dark. Every over head light flickered out of existence, and the only remaining source was the various LEDS that dotted instrument panels, his eyes, and the access panel in front of him. Once again, he collapsed the menus until he was back in the main directory. Code streamed in front of his eyes as he added the final little insult to injury. It didn't matter what she tried to do, the controls of her ship would refuse to respond, unless they were administered through this specific panel.

He had one final thing he wanted to do, but the clatter of the grate behind him drew his attention. He pulled his plug from the panel and darted to the side. He crouched himself down beside a cargo net of large debris and waited. The access panel still glowed, which cast a green hue around the room, but also acted to mask the glow from his eyes to a degree. He watched as the beam from the flashlight swept over the room from side to side and if he could grin, he would have. He reached between the cargo netting and quietly unscrewed a bolt from an old beam. He timed his actions with the path of the light. A moment after it swept past his location, he lobbed the bolt across the room. It bounced off another pile of debris that was netted in place and clattered to the floor. As he waited, he retracted the cord back into his finger and replaced the tip. He opened and closed his hands several times and the panels on his arms pulled back. The metal tentacles within sat ready to strike when the moment was right. For a moment, he actually hoped she didn't drop down into the cargo bay, but instead played a game of cat and mouse with him. He didn't care, he would literally tear her ship apart until he found her, and when he did, he would do things worse than she could possibly imagine, but all the while, she'd beg for more. Now, which would it be? Cat and mouse or fish in a barrel?